


Legal Guardian

by Kv0the



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Daryl Dixon & Beth Greene Friendship, Daryl Dixon & Carol Peletier Friendship, Daryl is Good With Kids, Dead Lori, M/M, Michonne & Rick Grimes Friendship, Oblivious Rick, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Parent Daryl, Past Lori Grimes/Rick Grimes, Slow Build, Slow Burn Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-07-28 08:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7631932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kv0the/pseuds/Kv0the
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carol is arrested and charged for the involuntary manslaughter of Ed, and Daryl is appointed as Sophia's temporary legal guardian.<br/>Rick, now a widower, moves house to escape the memories of Lori, to allow Carl, Judith and Rick to move on with their lives. His old friend Michonne hooks him up with an apartment, which happens to be right beside Daryl's, in the building where she lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea which was floating around in my head for a while. Admittedly, the story is very rough in places, but, well... I tried my best  
> And yes, I am aware that the title is s*** atm, but I can't think of a better one which is apt.  
> Be warned! This is the first thing I have ever written. Ever. So... Yeah...  
> Oh, please note that I'm from the UK, not USA where this is based. There's some(a lot) things I KNOW are iffy, if not outright wrong lol, but bear with me, and I've probably used British spelling/words in most cases, so I apologise in advance for my ignorance.

**Daryl**

Daryl signed his name in the ledger, pushed open the heavy door to the visiting room and took a seat at one of the small, grey tables. He shook his leg restlessly and fidgeted with the small, chain around his neck. A knee knocked into his left thigh, causing Daryl to flinch slightly and shift over to the right of his seat. He waited for another 5 minutes.

 _Why the hell do they gotta try’n fit 12 goddamn tables in ‘ere? And where the hell’s Carol?_ Daryl thought to himself, a slight frown forming on his normally-stoic face, giving away his agitation.

His eyes flickered about the room discreetly, catching glimpses of orange jumpsuits. The chain slipped out of his glistening palms, falling on his heavy-breathing chest. His heart still hammering away in his throat, residing there ever since he got out of his car in the parking lot. He trained his eyes on his shoes, trying to distract himself. It didn’t work.

Prisons always made Daryl nervous. Reminded him of his father and the things he’d done.

The feeling of a hand gently clasping his own made him jump, the muscles in his back tensing. Daryl flicked his gaze up and caught Carol’s, the tension rolling out of his body. He hadn’t even noticed her sitting down.

“Keep your hands to yourself, inmate,” a guard drawled, boredom latent in her voice. “You know the rules.”

“Hey, Pookey,” Carol said with a slight upturn of her lips, rolling her eyes at the guard, a poor attempt at initiating the usual banter they had before she was incarcerated. When they first met, she was a mousy character with a face littered from bruises from where she had ‘tripped’. Over time she’d opened up to him, but after the incident with Ed she had reverted back to almost square one. That was 3 months ago. She was coming back into herself now.

Carol looked around for any sign of Sophia, face dropping noticeably when she realised that the girl wasn’t present.

“I’ll tell ya in a bit. Let’s catch up first,” he responded to her unspoken question, putting off telling her that the girl was sick; Carol hadn’t reacted well the previous time, becoming hysteric with worry. Carol nodded hesitantly, a confused look on her face, but accepting his answer all the same

They made small talk about the weather – it was a particularly dreary Friday afternoon – about his work, about Beth, etc. Carol was the one carrying the conversation, but she was used to this aspect of Daryl’s personality. Not that she particularly minded it; the rest of the inmates usually left her to her own devices, so she craved the opportunity to be sociable. It also served as a distraction from the reality of her situation.

He gave small twitches every so often which didn’t go unnoticed. She gave him a once-over, recognising his nervous ticks, before meeting his eyes again. She squeezed his hand, her face morphing into something more apologetic-looking. They knew each other too well now. “Still reminded of your father, even after all these visits?”

They caught the attention of the same guard again. “Inmate, I said no contact,” she chastised, more firmly this time.

People at other tables shifted their attention towards the commotion. He shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, squirming in the hard, plastic chair. Daryl dropped his gaze and looked out the window with feigned interest. “’s nothing,” he mumbled, retracting his hand from hers. “Sophia’s sick. Told me to say sorry for ‘er not being able to visit,” he said quickly, changing the subject. “Beth’s lookin’ after ‘er whilst I’m here.”

 “It’s not serious, is it? You’ve taken her to get checked out, right? Do you know what drugs she’s allergic too?” The pitch of her voice increasing with each question, worry etched into her face. Cracks were appearing in her normally-calm demeanour.

Daryl raised an eyebrow and shot her a mock-offended look. “’s just a stomach bug, Carol.”

Carol sighed, placing her head between her hands. “I know, I know. You’ve got it covered. I-I’m sorry, Daryl, it’s just that she’s all I have left, now that Ed’s gone…” She trailed off, eyes glassing over. She opened and shut her mouth repeatedly, something on the tip of her tongue, but choked sounds came out instead of words. She took a deep breath in an attempt to settle herself. “What kind of mother can’t look after her daughter when she’s sick? What kind of mother lands herself in jail and leaves their child alone.” A single tear ran down her cheek and on to the table. She hadn’t really spoken much about the implications of her incarceration on Sophia. She usually avoided more serious topics. This has been building for a while. “All I can picture are those scars on her neck, Daryl. I could have prevented it…”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m a horrible parent.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Sophia deserves better than me.”

“Carol – ”

“Maybe it’s better that you’re her legal guardian now.”

Daryl glanced around quickly, making sure the guard wasn’t paying attention before reaching out and lifting her chin up, forcing her to look at him. With a determined look on his face, he leaned in and uncharacteristically looked straight into her eyes. “Carol Peletier, you listen to me dammit. You suffered Ed’s abuse for _years_ to protect Sophia. You gave that girl the love of 2 parents – to make up for Ed’s disregard for his own daughter. You plucked up the courage to stand up to Ed to save Sophia’s _life_ that night, risking your own in the process. You’re the kind of mother who’d give her own life to save her child’s. _That’s_ the kind of mother I wish _I_ had growing up. _You are not a bad parent._ ”

During the passionate speech from the normally-subdued man, the room had grown quiet. All the attention had shifted to him. Daryl ducked his head, his neck and face flushing violently. The guards continued to pretend not to notice the contact between the two. With a watery smile on her face, Carol lifted her hand and placed it tenderly on Daryl’s hand which was still on her chin. “What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?” she revered. “Thank you, Daryl.” She whispered, not quite knowing what else to say.

There was a long, but comfortable silence between them. Conversations struck up at other tables as people lost their interest in the pair.

“So… Sophia’s summer vacation ends on monday, huh?” Carol said, eventually breaking the quiet that had enveloped them.

 

********

**Rick**

Rick and Michonne climbed up the 4 flights of stairs leading to his flat for the last time, carrying the last of his boxes of possessions. He arrived at the top exhausted, out of breath and with his legs and arms burning, a whole 2 minutes after Michonne did, who looked as if she hadn’t even broken a sweat and was leaning lackadaisically against a wall.   _I swear she’s a goddamn machine_ , Rick thought to himself.

She and Carl were chatting amiably outside his apartment with a young, almost-childish, blonde woman and a girl who looked around Carl’s age. Michonne waved Rick over, shooting Carl a conspiratorial smirk. He walked over and set the boxes down with a sigh of relief.

“Hey, Dad. You okay? I didn’t know it was raining outside,” Carl remarked, referring to Rick’s sweat-drenched, baggy, white shirt.

“Ha-Ha. Very funny,” Rick deadpanned. “Be glad I let you sit the last few trips out.”

“I think he’s just had one doughnut too many, needs to hit the cardio,” Michonne jibed with a wicked grin.

“Ouch, a cop-joke. That one was below the belt.” Rick held his hand over his heart in mock-hurt. He turned his attention to the two blonde strangers and held out his hand. “Rick Grimes,” he drawled.

“Beth Greene,” the woman chirped with a polite smile, shaking his hand enthusiastically and giving him a quick once-over. The name seemed familiar to Rick, but he couldn’t quite put his thumb on it. “And this right here is Sophia,” she said, referencing the girl beside her, who nodded at him in acknowledgement. His police-trained eyes flicked to the silvery scars on her neck, and his eyes narrowed in worry. Sophia squirmed under his gaze and pulled her shirt collar up a bit.

“So,” Beth started, drawing his attention to her. “You’re a cop then? I’m a kindergarten teacher myself. Bit of a polarity there,” she laughed. The name finally clicked; Beth Greene was the kindergarten teacher for the class he had enrolled Judith in.

“Oh, yeah. I’m the new deputy. I’ll have to go in to the station tomorrow to pick up my uniform and badge and things,” he replied conversationally. “You know, my daughter will actually be joining your class on Monday.”

“Really?” Beth asked, seeming a bit puzzled. “Why didn’t you enrol in a closer kindergarten?”

“Michonne here had many great things to say about you. By the end of the long, long list I was sold. She also helped me find an affordable apartment here in Atlanta,” he said, clasping his friend’s shoulder.

Beth flushed a light tinge of pink at the compliments. “You two know each other?” she asked instead.

“Oh, yeah. Rick and I go way back,” Michonne said. “Back when I was first establishing myself as a playwright and Rick used to attend Georgia State Uni here in Atlanta, Rick starred in some of my very first plays in one of the community theatres. Helped to launch my career.”

“I think you’re being a bit too generous there, Michonne” Rick mumbled abashedly. It was his turn to blush.

“Nonsense,” she laughed. She turned to Carl with a devious look in her eye. “Oh Carl, you should have heard him _sing.”_

At this, Carl’s eyes lit up. “Dad? _Singing?_ ” he exclaimed, eyebrows shooting up into his hair.

“ _Michonne_ ,” Rick groaned, willing the ground to swallow him up.

The subdued thrum of a car pulling up into the building’s carpark interrupted the group. Rick silently sent the Lord his thanks.

“Is that Daryl?” Sophia asked Beth. It was the first time Rick had heard the girl speak. Beth nodded at Sophia and the two of them shared a surreptitious look. Sophia grabbed Beth by then hand and proceeded to drag her away to the flat beside Rick’s. “ _Hurry,”_ Sophia urged.

Beth looked over her shoulder and called out “Sorry, we have to go. It was nice meeting you Rick, Carl. Bye, Michonne.” A hurried wave from both parties and then their door slammed shut.

Carl and Rick raised questioning eyebrows at Michonne who shrugged her shoulders in response. “Your guess is as good as mine” she replied.

Their heads turned towards the staircase where they could hear heavy, labouring footsteps making their way up the stairs in an erratic rhythm. The appearance of a shaggy, brown-haired man carrying 7 shopping bags explained it all. His arms were visibly straining with the effort (he was wearing a sleeveless black shirt and a black vest). He walked past the trio to the apartment that Beth and Sophia had disappeared into not 2 minutes ago. Finally, he flicked his gaze up and nodded in acknowledgement at Michonne (reminding him of Sophia earlier) and then his gaze went to the pile of boxes beside Rick.

“Hey,” Michonne greeted, as if this was completely normal behaviour. _Maybe it was for this man, for all I know,_ Rick thought to himself. Michonne introduced them. “Rick, Carl, this is Daryl. Daryl, meet Rick and Carl Grimes. They’re your new neighbours.” She smiled warmly, receiving a plain look in return. He nodded at them both and continued walking to his flat.

“Need any help with the door?” Rick asked, looking pointedly at Daryl’s full hands.

Daryl looked strangely at Rick, a vaguely affronted look on his face. “Nah, s’alright,” he said, and used his elbow to push the handle down, disappearing into the flat, only to be smacked in the face by the door. Rick couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped, trying to disguise it as a cough. Once again it was just Rick, Carl and Michonne in the corridor.

Michonne laughed at the puzzled look Rick sent her. “He’s not terribly fond of strangers,” she tried to explain, “and he likes to be self-sufficient. He’s a big old softie under that hard exterior though. Give him a chance, at least. It’s getting late, and your cooking stuff isn’t unpacked yet – do you even have any groceries? – Why don’t y’all come on round to my apartment upstairs for dinner? I’ll cook.” She shot Carl a wink.

 

********

**Daryl**

The apartment door swung open, hit the wall and flung back into Daryl’s surprised face. He heard muffled snickering behind him. He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Second time this goddamn week,” he grumbled to himself. Daryl stepped inside awkwardly, trying to manoeuvre the seven shopping bags he held with straining arms through the door, then closing it behind him. Second trips to the car for groceries were never an option. Not when one lived on the fourth floor of a building with a broken elevator. And also because of manly pride.

Plopping the groceries down on the kitchen floor, he gave a small moan as feeling flooded back into his arms. Rolling a shoulder, he switched on the kitchen light and glanced around the apartment. Empty. “Sophia?” He called out gruffly. “Beth?” No answer. He rubbed his smarting forehead, feeling certain that a red mark was appearing. _Thud_. Daryl’s head whipped round to locate the source of the noise. Frowning slightly, he walked towards Sophia’s room. The door was slightly ajar, but the light was switched off. He couldn’t make much out in the dark. He stepped inside, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. His hunter’s senses were going haywire, telling him something was wrong. His stomach dropped and his body tensed, preparing for a fight. Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He could just about make out the outline of the moving shadow, and he instantly recognised the situation. His body relaxed, and he chuckled at himself for getting so riled up. A guttural, but slightly high-pitched warcry interrupted his thoughts.

“AGHHH!!” screeched the shadow which jumped out from behind the door and on to his back. Arms wrapped around his neck, legs around his waist. Daryl and the shadow crumpled to the floor in a tangled mess of limbs and giggles. The light switched on and Daryl sat face to face with his attacker who straddled his stomach; a wild-looking 12 year old girl whose shoulder-length hair was strewn across her face and sticking up in every direction, a large grin plastered on her face and her eyes twinkling with excitement. Daryl didn’t doubt for a second that he looked exactly the same.

“Ha! I _totally_ got you!” Sophia exclaimed, still breathing heavily from their tumble.

“Yeah, kiddo, you sure did,” Daryl conceded, quite proud of the girl.

“I could almost see the piss running down your leg,” she smirked.

Daryl snorted derisively and pushed her off of him playfully. “Brat,” he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear, standing and brushing off his trousers. “And watch your language, Missy,” he chastised lightly, his heart not really in it. He didn’t really mind, but he doubted Carol felt the same way. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” he raised a questioning eyebrow.

Sophia rolled her eyes. “Beth declared me healthy an hour ago.”

He’d crept up and scared her shitless sometime last week, with Beth capturing it on camera. She’d sworn her revenge and all week had been attempting to sneak up on him to no avail – he usually spotted her a mile away.

“You two done with your game yet?” Beth asked. She stood at the doorway beside the light switch, a look a feigned boredom on her face as she pretended to inspect her nails.

“’S not a game. ‘S life skills” Daryl retorted. “ _Hunting_ skills,” he clarified.

“Oh? Is there something I’m not aware of? Is Sophia a werewolf, perhaps? Or maybe she wishes to time travel to 600 BC,” Beth joked. Sophia chortled in the background.

“Funny,” he deadpanned. “You never know. Maybe there’ll be a zombie apocalypse where you’d need them skills there. Should teach ‘em to them children o’ yours at the kindergarten.”

“Trust me, they’re already masters. I turn around for one second and they’re latching on to my leg, clawing and attacking it,” Beth grinned, enjoying the witty banter between them. Sophia walked past them to the kitchen where she started packing away the groceries.

“Soph give you any trouble?” He asked, using his nickname for her.

“Always,” she laughed lightly. “It’s no hassle at all, honest. I love spending time with Sophia.”

“Hey, Beth? You staying for dinner?” Sophia called from the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t want to impose on Daryl, sweetie,” Beth said, lips curling up into a knowing smile, as if she knew exactly what was coming next.

“You know fully well that Daryl brought home extra groceries,” Sophia scoffed in response.

“Then sure, I’d love to,” Beth smiled brightly.

She glanced over at Daryl who was blushing lightly and purposefully not looking at her. “You’re welcome, Daryl” she said, knowing this was his way of saying ‘thanks for looking after Sophia today’ without actually having to say it. “Did you see the new guy moving in next door on your way up?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.”

“…And?”

“And what?”

Beth rolled her eyes. “What d’ya make of him?”

“Seemed alright, I s’pose.” He narrowed his eyes, not quite sure where she was going with this.

“Only alright?” She questioned innocently.

“Uh…” Daryl floundered. Beth stared at him expectantly “ _Friendly_ then,” he extrapolated, trying to appease her. “ _Too_ friendly if you ask me,” he muttered under his breath.

“Oh? I see. You’d rather him be _naughty_ would you?” Beth teased, waggling her eyebrows and elbowing him gently in the ribs.

“ _Beth!”_ He admonished, looking away to hide the pink tint in his cheeks. She cackled as he pushed past her to the kitchen. “What kind of name’s _Grimes_ anyways,” he called over his shoulder as he made his way towards Sophia.

“How was Mom?” asked Sophia, considerably more sombre now. Daryl helped her put away the rest of the groceries.

“She’s doin’ good, Soph. She was bummed ‘cause she missed you today,” he replied. He paused, fridge open, a carton of eggs in his hands. “You know that your Mom loves you, right Soph?”

“Of course,” Sophia frowned, not expecting the question. “Why?”

Daryl said nothing for a while, playing with the carton in his hand. His eyes flicked to her neck, immediately looking away. Sophia got extremely self-conscious about her scars. “She just wanted to remind you, since you didn’ get to see ‘er today,” Daryl replied, finally deciding on an answer. He carried on putting things away.

He had been Sophia’s legal guardian for 3 months now, since carol was jailed for involuntary manslaughter. Ed’s family had no complaints. They never cared for her, tolerating her only for Ed’s sake. Carol’s immediate family were all dead, and she didn’t keep in contact with her extended family. Carol asked for Daryl to be made her legal guardian, and after many visits from court officials and the CPS, he was deemed suitable.

Daryl shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “C’mon, kiddo. Help me with dinner, alright? Enchiladas tonight, since I got home late and they’re quick to make,” he said with a small smile, ruffling Sophia’s hair which earned him a half-hearted glare.

“You’re the boss,” she replied, returning the smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't been able to tell, I love the idea of Daryl being great with kids. I mean, it's sorta canon in the series, so I'll take it.  
> Sophia and Carl are 12/13ish, and I'm making Judith 5ish. (Judith kinda doesn't do very much atm, I apologise for her invisibility)  
> I know the characters seem a bit OOC, but I was trying to extrapolate what their personalities would be like without having been through the horrors of a zombie-apocalypse, but still making them recognisable. Sophia is just plain OOC, no excuses. Then again, she only really has character in the comic.  
> If you're wondering why Daryl is sociable (and hence OOC lol) with Beth/Carol/Sophia, it's because he has known them and been friends with them for a looong time (several years, I think It'll be).  
> Let me know what you think. Criticism, advice, praise, suggestions, I'll take anything :P  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while to get out... Sorry! It's difficult to find time to write. I usually write from 11pm-2am lmao (Yikes, I know, mistakes galore, but I'm a lot more productive then), but sometimes I'll have written like 18 words in an hour :/ And I did write a 500 word scene but decided to leave it out until later lol :P Excuses.
> 
> Anyway, this chap. Hm... Trigger warning?? (maybe?) There's a section that's a bit dark, but this is rated as Mature for a reason. 
> 
> Some things may seem half-explained, (e.g. Daryl's job), but uh most of that is on purpose (hopefully) and will be fully addressed later on
> 
> Oy vey. Well, carry on.

**Daryl**

“Please, Daryl,” Sophia begged, clasping her hands together. She gave him her best puppy dog eyes, receiving a flat stare in return. “Come on, you _promised_ that if I successfully snuck up on you, you’d let me ride in the sidecar again.”

Daryl looked away from her, biting the inside of his cheek. “Your mom don’t like it,” he tried to argue. In addition to the motorcycle and car he already owned, he’d bought a motorcycle with a sidecar 2 weeks ago after much hounding, and had taken Sophia for a few short rides. She’d love every minute of it, but Carol, not so much. When he had told Carol she near had a fit with worry, proceeding to rapidly rhyme off the many, _many_ dangers of motorcycling. Daryl had spent the next hour trying to calm her down. He wasn’t looking for a repeat session of that.

“You do a lot of things Mom doesn’t like,” Sophia scoffed. “I’ll be fine, Daryl. I have that helmet you bought me, and plus, I’ll have _you_ driving,” she tried to reason. Daryl said nothing. “I’ll do the dishes for a week?” she offered as a last attempt.

Daryl contemplated her offer for a long moment. “Make it two,” he finally said and held out his hand.

“Deal,” she agreed, shaking his hand enthusiastically. Daryl finally met her gaze, an amused glint in his eyes. She faltered, pausing mid-shake and narrowing her eyes with suspicion. “You ass! You were going to agree all along, weren’t you?” she accused.

A small smirk made its way across Daryl’s face. He walked past her, ruffling her hair on the way, not denying her accusation. “Grab your schoolbag and helmet, kiddo. We leave in five.”

Five minutes later, Daryl and Sophia made their way downstairs and outside to the parking lot, helmets in hand. They were greeted by the sight of a man bending over the open hood of a red Toyota, and a boy leaning against the side of the car with a bored look on his face. A small girl held the boy’s hand, sucking her thumb tiredly. The man stood up, slammed hood down and ran a hand over his face, cursing loudly. Daryl recognised him as Rick.

Daryl and Sophia stopped in their tracks and looked at each other, their faces going through several expressions, a non-verbal conversation going on between them. Sophia bit her lip before sighing with resignation. She grabbed Daryl’s helmet and house keys out of his hands, and stomped back up to their apartment.

Daryl walked over to the lamenting man who hadn’t noticed him yet. “Car trouble?” he asked gruffly. Rick turned around with some surprise and quickly composed himself.

“What?” he replied dumbly. “Oh. Mornin’, Daryl. Yeah, can’t get the damn thing to start. Piece of junk.” He kicked the car for emphasis. “I mean, the schools are nearby, but we’ve left it too late to start walkin’. Wasn’t plannin’ on walkin’ you see – don’t know the area too well yet.” Rick rambled on. He glanced at his watch. “Five minutes ‘til school starts. Dammit, first day of school and everything too. Kids can’t be tardy _today_ of all days. Do you have a taxi company’s number on you by any chance?”

Daryl snorted amusedly, raising a questioning eyebrow from Rick. Daryl fidgeted slightly. “Cab in Atlanta? Didn’ realise you wanted to be robbed o’ your money so soon,” he explained, avoiding eye contact. Daryl turned around and walked over to his own car, fishing a set of keys out of his pocket. “Get in.”

“What?” Rick replied dumbly for the second time before shaking his head. “No, Daryl, I can’t ask that of you. We’ve only just met. It’s fine, honestly –”

“I said _get in,_ Rick.” He repeated more assertive this time, but still not meeting Rick’s gaze.

Rick bit his cheek, going over his options, or lack thereof, in his head. Eventually he conceded. “Alright then. Thank you, Daryl. Carl, take Judith to the backseat, I’ll grab her booster seat.”

“Sweet car, dude,” Carl said, running his hand over Daryl’s Mercedes appreciatively. Daryl grunted in response. Sophia came back at this point and gave the three newcomers a brisk wave. She and Carl threw their bags in the boot whilst Rick strapped Judith in. They all buckled in and set off down the road. Daryl learnt that Carl had enrolled in the same middle school as Sophia, and were roughly the same age, and Judith was to go to Beth’s kindergarten.

Conversation started to bubble between the two teens in the back, contradicting the silence which had enveloped Rick and Daryl; a silence Daryl was perfectly comfortable with, but Rick squirmed and fidgeted under it, trying to think of something to break it.  Daryl caught snippets of the conversation going on behind him.

“You’ve ridden a motorcycle? No way!” Carl exclaimed with disbelief.

“Mhmm. Four times,” she said smugly. “Today was gonna be the fifth, but…” she trailed off.

“Whose was it? I bet it was Michonne’s,” he said.

 “Hah! As if Michonne would let me ride her ‘baby’,” she laughed. “It was _Daryl’s_.”

Carl looked up at Daryl in surprise, trying to catch the man’s eye in the rear-view mirror. “You own both a Mercedes and a motorcycle?” He asked. Daryl pretended not to hear.

“He owns _two_ ,” She laughed again, answering for Daryl. Carl’s eyebrows shot up into his hair and he whistled appreciatively, leaning back in his seat.

“He gets so many parking spaces?” he questioned.

“He pays extra. Plus, Michonne has a soft spot for him,” she explained, a small smile on her face.

“Must be some job you have, Daryl,” Rick said, clearly impressed.

“Engineer,” is all Daryl offered.

They went to drop off Judith first, as the kindergarten was on the way to the high school. Much to Daryl’s chagrin, Beth was near one of the windows when they pulled up – he knew what she’d make of the situation – and so, after a double-take, she came rushing out to greet them. Daryl stepped out of the car to moderate what Beth said to Rick.

“Daryl, is that you? And you brought Rick with you too?” She asked with a wide grin on her face.

“Mornin’ Beth,” Rick greeted, retracting Judith from the backseat and holding her hand. “Yeah… Car wouldn’t start this mornin’ so Daryl here was kind enough to give us a ride,” he explained and clapped Daryl’s shoulder. Daryl flinched at the sudden contact and leaned away from the unfamiliar touch, earning him a strange look from Rick.

“Oh, Daryl’d give you a ride anytime, wouldn’t you Daryl?” She said, shooting Daryl a wink which Rick, thankfully, didn’t see. It was harmless teasing that didn’t mean anything, but Daryl felt heat rising in his cheeks. He shot Beth a withering glare. For someone who looked after children, she was quite the devil.

“Shouldn’t you be looking after the kids?” he deflected.

“I’m sure the other teachers can handle them for all of five minutes of my absence. Why don’t you step inside for –” Beth started.

“Sorry, gotta run,” he interrupted, not quite sorry at all. “Kids’ve school.”

Beth pouted but accepted the excuse. She knelt down beside Judith, smiled and held the hand which wasn’t latched on to Rick’s. “Hi, Judith! My name’s Beth. You come with me and we’ll get you sorted for today, okay?” Judith looked at her father for confirmation, who nodded at her, before nodding herself, her wide eyes observing Beth cautiously. She was a quiet girl, but had been even more subdued than usual for the past few days; she didn’t quite know how to cope with all the strange new people and her new home just yet. Beth brought her inside and Rick, Carl, Sophia and Daryl set off again.

They made it to the high school only 3 minutes after the first bell. Daryl stepped out of the car and pulled Sophia in for a quick hug before she ran off to class, Rick doing the same to Carl. The two teenagers groaned, embarrassed at being hugged in front of each other, but hugged them back all the same.

“Take care, okay,” Rick called out to their retreating forms.

“Police station next?” Daryl queried.

Rick was about to decline politely when the first smatterings of rain hit his face. “Yeah, please,” he smiled sheepishly, and they both stepped back into the car and drove off. “Won’t you be late to work yourself?”

“Flexi-Hours,” Daryl replied curtly.

“Really? Never met an engineer with a flexible work schedule,” Rick mused. Daryl grunted in reply.

“I’m already out of shape as it is. Can’t imagine this carpooling’s helpin’ much,” Rick joked. Daryl glanced over and gave him a once-over.

“Look alright to me,” he mumbled, then frowned at the words which had seemed to spill out on their own. _The hell did that come from,_ he berated himself. _Been spendin’ too much time with Beth._ He glanced over at Rick again who was giving him an odd look.

“I meant that I got shot last year on the job and was in a coma for 4 weeks, which ain’t exactly good for muscle,” Rick continued. “Never quite got back to normal.”

“That why you moved?”

“Hm?”

“Old place too dangerous?”

“You kiddin’ me? I used to live in a small town in the backend of nowhere. Nothin’ compared to Atlanta,” Rick chuckled, but sobered up quickly, his eyes glassing over slightly. “Nah. Moved ‘cause uh… ‘cause my wife died in that town. Hit and run. Came here to get from it all.” Silence enveloped the two. Daryl cursed his knack of accidentally asking loaded questions. He said nothing for a while – what was there to say? Rick cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Sucks, man,” Daryl eventually offered up. Rick nodded. Daryl hated apologising for death. Rather, from his own experience he hated receiving apologies for deaths beyond other people’s control – it seemed so pointless. He hadn’t craved pity or sympathy, but empathy. So he figured Rick might feel the same way too.

Two minutes later, which may as well have been two hours, they arrived at the police station.

“Daryl, I can’t thank you enough for today. Not a lot of people would’ve went out of their way for a stranger like you did today.” Rick said sincerely.

“Weren’t nothing,” Daryl replied, uncomfortable under the praise. “Ya’ll can get home alright?”

Rick shook his head and chuckled with incredulity at the seemingly-selfless man before him. But there was a slight worry in his eyes that didn’t go unmissed by Daryl. “Yeah. My shift ends in the afternoon, so I can walk the kids home, but thanks, Daryl.” Rick clasped Daryl’s shoulder again, like he did at the kindergarten, and Daryl fought off the urge to shrink back from the alien touch. Rick got out and walked up to the station, shooting a smile and a wave over his shoulder. Daryl stared at the bow-legged gait of the man and snorted with amusement before driving off.

*******

**Rick**

“Fucking goddamn tittyfucking shit,” Rick let loose the string of expletives quietly in his room in the apartment, so that the kids, who were watching TV in the living room, couldn’t hear. _What am I going to do? Think, Rick. Think. Take a deep breath and think._ He paced his room, wracking his brain for ideas. He drew a blank.

“Goddammit,” he cursed. He grabbed a pillow off his bed and flung it across the room, angry at himself for being so stupid. It hit a tower of boxes, causing them to topple with a small thud – luckily they had already been emptied of their contents over the weekend. He plopped down on the bed and sighed with exasperation, massaging his temples with his fingers.

The problem was that Rick hadn’t thought ahead and planned things out properly. He had no idea how he was supposed to get the kids home from school every day. Sure, on days like today where his shift ended early he could get the kids home fine, but what about days where he had the afternoon shift? Also, on days where he had the night or evening shift, he couldn’t leave the kids alone at home. Carl was only twelve, which is nowhere near an adult despite what Carl might have to say on the matter, and he couldn’t look after Judith all on his own. This realisation had hit him earlier when he was with Daryl.

Tears of frustration welled up in his eyes. _I need Lori,_ he told himself. _Lori would know exactly what to do. Hell, Lori would never even_ be _in this position. Lori…_

Rick reached over to the small, wooden bedside table and opened the bottom drawer. He rummaged through the socks until he found a tiny, black velvet box. He opened it and took out the golden ring which lay inside, ‘forever’ inscribed around the outside of it. It was his wedding ring. He stared at it for a long minute, stood up, took a deep breath, closed his eyes and gingerly slipped it on.

His eyes opened warily again, turned around and immediately fixed his attention on the figure laying on his bed; a slender woman with flowing, dark brown hair and intense eyes. She was lying on her side, facing Rick, and had an elbow pressed into the bed, her hand propping her head up.

“Would you look at that? Rick Grimes comes crawling back,” she mocked, a smug smirk growing on her face. “What happened to being ‘done with me’?” She hooked her fingers into air quotations and rolled her eyes. “I’d say I’m surprised to see you again, but, honestly, I’m not.”

“If you’re done with the cliché villain-lines, I need your help,” Rick said impassively.

“Of course you do. Why else would I be here? Come on then, what seems to be the issue, honey? Why don’t you tell me how gloriously fucked-up you’ve made things?”

“I told you not to call me that,” he said, grinding his teeth.

Lori laughed at this. “You’re the one asking _me_ for help. I can call you anything I like, _honey_ ,” she stressed. Rick tightened his jaw but carried on.

“You _know_ the issue,” he replied, answering her earlier question. “Are you going to help me or not?”

She sat up on the bed, facing Rick, and lightly ran a hand up the inside of his leg. “Perhaps,” she teased. “Why are you in such a hurry? God, you’re so tense. Let’s get rid of some of that tension, hm?” She licked her lips salaciously, hand moving farther up still. Just as her hand reached his groin, he grabbed her wrist forcefully, causing her to flinch at the suddenness of it. She caught his gaze for the first time, seeing the utter contempt which lay behind his eyes.

“ _Get off of me,”_ he spat in disgust, forgetting to keep his voice down. The slap of feet on wooden floor sounded just outside his door. _Knock, knock, knock._

“Dad?” Carl asked, opening the door and peeping inside.

“I’m okay, Carl.” He answered, running a hand through his hair and sighing. “A mosquito landed on me, that’s all,” he fabricated.

“Okay, Dad. I’ll go put Judith to bed, read her a story, kay?” Carl said, seeming to accept Rick’s pathetic excuse. Rick glanced at his watch with a puzzled look, looking surprised when it read 20:00. It’d been 18:30 last he’d checked, right after dinner.

“Thanks, Carl,” he responded. The door closed again, Lori reappearing behind it with folded arms. She seemed to have sobered up considerably at the sound of Carl’s voice.

“Fine,” she said.

“Fine?” he asked.

“I’ll help you.”

“Fine.”

“Do you trust Beth?”

“What?”

“ _Do you trust Beth?”_

“A bit, I suppose?”

“Ask her to bring Judith with her from work.”

“ _What?”_ Rick asked incredulously. “But I barely even _know_ her. How am I supposed to trust her with Judith?”

“Do you have a better idea? If so, then I’m all ears.” Rick was silent. “Didn’t think so. Look,” she started, her tone softening a bit, “Beth seems like one of the few genuinely nice people out there. She’s a kindergarten teacher, so she has proven responsibility, and you’re already trusting her to look after Judith for several hours a day. Plus, she lives two doors down from you, it’d hardly be a hassle,” she reasoned.

“Okay,” he sighed. “You’re right. And Carl?”

“He’s already sorted,” she waved dismissively.

“What do you mean?”

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Who did you walk home with today?”

“Sophia?” Turns out that Carl was placed in the same registration class as Sophia, and they share some of the same classes. They were fast becoming friends, and thus, Carl had invited Sophia to walk home with them after school.

“Yes. Sophia and Carl can walk home together every day.”

“I don’t know, that seems a bit dangerous…” Rick trailed off.

“It’s only a short distance, Rick – a twenty-thirty minute walk – and the area is a good one, too. They’re basically teenagers now, Rick. You can’t coddle Carl like a child. Given today, Daryl clearly understands that.” Sophia _was_ to walk home alone, Rick mused to himself. He supposed that was that sorted then.

“And what about someone to look after the kids when I’m not home?”

“You have really crap memory,” Lori snorted. “Call Michonne up. When you were finalising the paperwork for this apartment, she said she knew a young woman in this building who was looking for a small job.”

“How can I trust her?”

“You trusted Michonne enough to root up your life and come to Atlanta, and Michonne trusts this woman, so you can trust her.” Rick smiled softly at her, meeting her gaze.

“Thanks, Lori,” he said gently. She turned around, looking away from him. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly. “You know I can’t keep doing this, right? Giving in and putting the ring on. It has to stop. Not just for my sake, but for Carl’s and Judith’s.”

“I know,” she replied curtly. “Goodbye, Rick.”

He slipped the ring off with trembling fingers, the _plip plip_ sound of Lori’s tears hitting the wooden floor ringing in his ears. She flickered out of existence. The _plip plip_ didn’t stop _._ Rick realised that he was crying too. His knees buckled and he curled up into a ball on the floor, muffling his sobs in his shirt-sleeve. The ring slipped out of his fingers and clattered to the floor.

Every time he put that ring on now, every time he spoke with Lori, he was left feeling emotionally and physically drained. Every time the hole left in his heart felt like it was finally starting to heal, it was like a knife was thrust in and twisted, and the hole got twice as large and needed twice as much time to heal.

He’d started seeing the apparition of Lori a week or so after she died. He couldn’t really remember; a lot of those days morphed into one in his memory. He realised soon after that it was connected to his wedding ring. Of course, originally he’d naively thought it was fantastic, that he’d be able to, in some twisted way, hold on to some part of Lori, that it’d help him through his grief. He lived inside the fabrications of his own mind, growing addicted to the delusions.

But the apparition changed. A gradual change, but a change for the worst nonetheless. Its emotions and actions became extremely volatile. It became self-aware that it was only a figment of Rick’s imagination. It grew demented, lashing out at him for no reason, cursing him, blaming him for Lori’s death, toying with his feelings, all while wearing Lori’s skin.

Sometimes, but only sometimes, a true(ish) depiction of Lori would surface for a few minutes. He craved these moments; it was why he had endured the horrible apparition for so long. But during one particular conversation with a true-Lori, the first time a true-Lori had self-awareness, she had quietly begged him to stop wearing the ring. She hit home. At that point he started to ponder what he was doing, if trying to hang on to some warped, distorted version of Lori, was worth it, or was fair to Lori in any way.

The answer, of course, was no. He finally realised that all it did was prolonging his suffering, reminding on a daily basis that the woman he’d loved was gone. It was slowly, but surely, hollowing him out and would leave him a husk of a man if he continued. So, like a drug, he started to wean himself off the ring, started to come back to his family, the need to talk to Lori reduced to a dull itch.

He sat there for a while, combing over his thoughts. The next time he glanced at his watch it read 22:00. He stood up slowly, grimacing at the pins-and-needles sensation in his entire left leg, and wiped at his long-dry eyes. Something cold lay under his foot; the ring. He picked it up and put it in its box with care, hovering over the open drawer of his bedside table. He stared at it for a long moment, mulling something over. He threw the box under his bed and proceeded to call Michonne.

“Hey, Michonne…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. So. That very last scene. It was very descriptivey and wordy and not very actiony, I apologise. I wasn't entirely happy with it, but I don't have the writing prowess to fix it, so make do I'm afraid :P
> 
> But yes, that went from light and fluffy to dark dark dark quite quickly... And yes there are some corny cliche pieces... And yes, I know, sometimes they have accents, and sometimes they magically don't... And yes, I realise I abuse these author's notes wayyy too much... But this is my first fic and I demand to be cut some slack :P
> 
> I'm rereading this and I'm sorry if it feels like the plot didn't progress forwards at all...? but I had important things to establish! Like slightly-insane Rick! And the first fluffy part kinda just happened, but it gave the slightest hints of (very slow burning apparently) Rickyl. Rejoice. Praise the lord.
> 
> (I'll try to figure out what the actual frickin plot is now)  
> Thanks for reading! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again with the 2am thing. Honestly.  
> A new chapter so soon, I'm spoiling yous. The wonders of procrastination. I might have to sort out a schedule of some fashion for yous.
> 
> These chapters always end up quite hefty. I don't know how, considering they only focus on one or two small scenes lmao. 
> 
> There's no Daryl POV for this chap, js. Nearly 3k of solid Rick.

**Rick**

The rest of the week went by without a hitch. Michonne had agreed to hook him up with a babysitter under the condition that he become part of her dinner-party group in the apartments which took turns at hosting every Saturday. Carl and Judith were invited too, which he thought was strange as he thought dinner parties were usually adults-only. Then again, what did he know of dinner parties? He had accepted hesitantly, not quite sure what he was getting himself into.

Early Tuesday morning he was woken up by Daryl knocking on his door, asking him for his car keys. Rick had given up the car keys with little resistance, trusting the man enough from the day before, and had crawled back under his duvet to go back to sleep. He had woken later and found his keys sitting on the floor outside his apartment, with no sign of Daryl. A later test revealed that his car appeared to be working again. He made a mental note to thank the man at some point.

Beth had had no qualms whatsoever about bringing Judith home with her, and the new babysitter, who introduced herself as Andrea Harris, seemed to get along with Carl and Judith like a house on fire. She was kind, but assertive, and had a sense of humour similar to that of Michonne. He could see why the two of them were friends. The woman had a reddish-silvery scar running from her ear to the corner of her mouth. Rick didn’t ask about it; if she wanted to tell him, she would have.

Beth and Andrea already knew each other, which was to be assumed seeing as they’d both lived here for a while, and Beth would sometimes stay to chat with Andrea in his apartment after bringing Judith home when Rick had an afternoon shift.

It turns out that Andrea was able to babysit at what appeared to be any time of the week (except for Friday nights – ‘Date Night’), leading Rick to assume that she had a partner with a well-paying job. Despite Rick’s complaints, she had firmly insisted on a truly terrible wage of $12.50 per hour, saying she didn’t need the money and that the company was payment enough. Sometimes she even tried to leave her pay behind without him noticing. He was secretly thankful of her nonetheless, as his salary was already being stretched thin and probably couldn’t support a normal-payed babysitter without some ramifications on his style of living. Perhaps she was aware of his financial situation.

Before the move, the Atlanta Police Department had offered him an uncharacteristically generous salary, which he suspected had something to do with Rick’s father’s old friend at the PD, but his father denied it. Even with this pay, he wouldn’t normally be able to afford the apartment which he has now, but Michonne, who owned the apartments, had offered him a heavily discounted rent and insisted he take it. She’d done a lot for Rick and his family. Despite all this, a single parent’s salary could only go so far.

Saturday evening came and Rick found himself trudging up several flights of stairs with Carl and Judith in tow (the elevator was still broken) to the top floor where Michonne lived. She had texted him during the week, telling him to come to her apartment at 5pm. He knocked thrice on the door which seemed to open almost immediately, as if Michonne were standing by the door waiting for him.

“Rick!” Michonne greeted him, pulling him in for a hug, then Carl and Judith.  “I’m glad you came. We were starting to think you weren’t going to turn up. Come in, come in,” she ushered.

“As if you’d let me get away with that” he retorted, the three of them following Michonne into her apartment. He handed her a small bouquet of deep pink roses as they hung up their coats on the coat rack and continued on into the living room where the main bulk of people were. The shopkeeper had told him that dark pink roses symbolised gratitude and appreciation, which he thought was appropriate.

“Are these a dinner party gift?” she asked, an eyebrow raised whilst she inspected the flowers.

“Mhmm.” He blushed lightly. _Wasn’t gift-giving some sort of dinner party etiquette?_ He asked himself.

“Well, you might want to give these to the host then,” she smiled, handing them back to him. He shot her a puzzled look.

“You’re not hosting?” He asked, looking around her apartment at what was clearly a get-together of some sort. There were some faces he didn’t recognise.

“Did I forget to tell you? We use my place every week because I have the biggest apartment. And I’m the only one with a dining table big enough to seat everyone. The person ‘hosting’ comes round to my place earlier on the day with all the ingredients and they use my kitchen to prepare the meal,” she explained. “It may seem a little strange, but it works.”

“A _little_ strange?” he scoffed.

“What about you Carl, you keeping well?” she said, turning attention to Carl.

“I’m doing fine, yeah. Better than Dad after those stairs anyway,” he said, looking pointedly at his father’s still slightly flushed face, earning a laugh from Michonne. Rick opened his mouth to defend himself, but was interrupted by Andrea who came over and slipped an arm around Michonne’s waist, raising a questioning eyebrow from Rick. Apparently there were a lot of things Michonne conveniently ‘forgot’ to tell him. That explained why Andrea ‘didn’t need the money’.

“Beth!” Rick was surprised to hear Judith exclaim. She must really be taking a shine to Beth.

“Rick, Carl, Judith good to see you,” she greeted, shooting Judith a brilliant grin before ruffling her hair. “Although you’re looking a bit red, Rick,” she said with a smile in her eyes. “Are you feeling okay?”

“So I’ve been told,” he deadpanned, trying to sound unamused. “I blame it on the lack of a working elevator.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Michonne apologised. “I’m having a bit of a… disagreement with the woman who usually does those kinds of repairs for me.” Beside her, Andrea rolled her eyes.

“Michonne called her a bitch and threatened her with a katana,” Andrea helpfully supplied.

“It wasn’t _undeserved,”_ Michonne tried to justify.

“Just call Dale up instead like I’ve been saying –”

“Andrea, please.” There was an air of finality in Michonne’s voice which clearly indicated that the conversation was over. Andrea sighed and dropped it, and the arm wrapped around Michonne squeezed her slightly in silent apology.

“Okay then, so where’s the host? Better drop these off.” He nodded his head, indicating at the flowers in his hand, breaking the awkward silence which threatened to envelop them.

“In the kitchen preparing dinner.” Michonne replied, sharing a small smile with Andrea. “Go on, we’ll take Carl and Judith and introduce them to everyone.” Rick nodded and waltzed over to the adjoining kitchen.

“Hey, Rick!” Beth called out from behind him. Without pausing, Rick looked over his shoulder, waved with his free hand and gave a smile, only to walk straight into a wall which, oddly, grunted. A splat followed the grunt. Rick turned back around to see that the ‘wall’ he walked into was very much alive. Daryl gave Rick a dirty look before looking pointedly downwards, where the remains of an egg or two oozed across Daryl’s boots, his ‘Kiss The Cook’ apron (Michonne’s) and the floor.

 “Shit! Sorry, Daryl,” he apologised, flushing brightly. “Wasn’t looking where I was going.” He set the flowers down on the countertop and grabbed a washcloth and some paper towels, handing the washcloth to Daryl before kneeling down to mop up the mess on the floor.

“’S ok,” Daryl replied and wiped himself down, his eyes softening fractionally at Rick’s sincere apology. His eyes flickered to the flowers on the countertop, reminding Rick why he came to the kitchen in the first place.

Rick looked around for the host, finding nobody other than Daryl and himself in the kitchen. Realisation dawned on him. He stood up, threw the paper towels away, brushed his hands off on his trousers and picked up the bouquet, thrusting them in Daryl’s face.

“…”

“Uh… It’s, um, for you.” Rick stammered out, voice lifting at the end of it phrasing it almost as a question. “Because you’re the host, I mean.” He blushed furiously, but he didn’t understand why. “They symbolise –”

“Gratitude,” Daryl interrupted. Rick was surprised that the man knew the meanings behind flowers.

“Yeah.” Rick scratched the back of his head awkwardly, trying to think of something to say whilst Daryl continued to cook. “Thanks for fixing my car the other day,” Rick said eventually.

Daryl shrugged his shoulders. “Was nothin’ much. Just’ had to replace a part or two ‘s all.”

“And you keep spare parts handy?”

“Picked ‘em up nearby from where I work.”

“How much do they cost?” Rick asked. He got no reply. He hadn’t expected one. He stood there for a while, watching the other man cook in companionable silence (Daryl had refused his offer to help, unsurprisingly). At that moment he wasn’t in the mood for making small talk, like the rest of the group were currently doing.

The domestic sight of Daryl wearing Michonne’s love heart oven mitts and a flour-stained apron and lifting freshly baked crusty bread out of the oven made Rick’s heart melt a bit. _Cute_ , his brain supplied. Which was weird, because he’d never called a man cute before… Objectively handsome, yes, but never cute.

“’S ready,” Daryl announced quietly as he plated up, interrupting Rick’s thoughts. Rick was certain nobody but himself had heard Daryl, but sure enough people began to fill the seats at the dining table. He wordlessly whisked away a tray, which held a few bowls of a soupy, fishy dish Rick wasn’t familiar with and accompanying slices of the crusty bread, before Daryl could protest.

“Smell’s good,” Beth said enthusiastically. Her stomach growled violently, earning her several laughs from around the table. “Sorry, Daryl always makes _amazing_ food. My stomach is eager. What is it?” she inquired.

Rick shrugged his shoulders as best as he could with the tray in his hands. “No idea. You’ll have to ask the Head Chef,” he said, serving the food. “I’m but the lowly maître d'.”

Daryl snorted derisively at that as he came with the rest of the dishes.

“Well?” Beth looked at Daryl expectantly as he passed around the rest of the bowls.

Daryl blushed deeply before muttering “Bouillabaisse.” Rick and Carl stared at him as if he had three heads, but the rest of the table (bar Judith) laughed as if they expected as much from Daryl. Daryl had never looked more uncomfortable and rushed to his seat to get away from the attention.

Rick took the empty seat between Daryl and an unfamiliar girl with dark brown hair, ignoring the empty seat further along the table beside Carl who was having an animated conversation with Sophia.

“Fish stew, essentially,” the girl beside him said to the table as they tucked in. “Majored in French in college,” she explained at Rick’s imploring look. “Maggie,” she greeted, holding out her hand.

“Rick,” he said, shaking her hand.

“And this here’s my husband, Glenn,” she introduced the handsome Asian man on the other side of her.

“Hey, dude,” Glenn said, reaching over Maggie (to her distaste) to shake his hand briefly too.

Rick nodded politely and tucked into his own meal. Not knowing what to expect, Rick hesitantly took the first spoonful. He moaned softly around the spoon at the perfectly balanced medley of flavours, earning him a strange look from Daryl. “This is _fantastic,_ Daryl. _”_ The corners of Daryl’s lips upturned infinitesimally, but he said nothing.

“Surprisingly good cook, isn’t he?” Maggie asked. Rick hummed in agreement.

“I hope y’all aren’t expecting something like this when I cook,” Rick told the table seriously.

Andrea laughed. “ _None_ of us can cook half as well as he can, and we don’t expect anything from you either. Daryl just sets impossibly high standards, Rick.”

“You’re only saying that because last time you hosted you near set the whole building ablaze,” Michonne teased, obtaining chortles from the rest of the guests, as well as a sharp, but playful, elbow to the ribs from Andrea.

“How did you learn to cook?” Rick asked Daryl, turning his attention to the quiet man beside him.

“Carol taught me,” he replied stiffly.

“Who –”

Maggie cleared her throat dramatically. “So, Carl, Sophia, how was your first week of school?” she asked, not-so-artfully steering the conversation away from Carol, but Rick let the subject drop.

The rest of the meal went smoothly, with Rick inputting and laughing at the right cues, but he couldn’t help be distracted by Daryl. The man was mopping up the remains of his Bouillabaisse with the crusty bread, sucking the last droplets off his fingers which made obscene noises as they left his mouth.

“Rick?” Maggie nudged him gently.

“Huh?” He looked around to find everyone staring at him expectantly. “Sorry, I spaced out. What was the question?” he asked sheepishly.

“I was wondering how you were finding your new station,” Andrea repeated.

“Oh. Yeah, it’s been great so far. My new partner seems nice - a guy called Aaron. Been meaning to invite him over for dinner in fact, maybe get a friend at the station. That’d be nice.” Daryl seemed to stiffen slightly at this.

“Yeah, he’s a nice guy,” Andrea agreed.

“Oh? You know him?”

“Yup. I used to be on the Atlanta PD. A while back, I got into a pretty hairy situation and was taken as a hostage. Guy cut me right here with a knife.” She pointed to the scar that marred her cheek. “After that, we decided the job was too dangerous, so I handed in my resignation.” She said ‘we’, but it was obvious by the look on her face that she wasn’t too happy with the decision. She gripped her spoon and stabbed a mussel forcefully in her bowl, creating a small _crack_.

“The job _can_ be pretty dangerous,” Rick agreed. “I got shot last year and put into a coma for four weeks,” he admitted. Several ‘oh my goodness’s and ‘holy shit’s were muttered. Sophia, on the other hand, whispered naively to Carl, “Your dad is so _cool.”_

“Lori obviously didn’t want me to go back out into the field when I recovered, but I loved my job too much. Something about tryna bring some good into this world, you know?” Only Andrea nodded in agreement. The conversation lulled. It was decided that now would be a good time for dessert.

Not long after dessert, which was just as amazing as the main, people thanked Daryl profusely for the meal and began to trickle out the door. Daryl grew uncomfortable under the praise and attention and was the first person to leave, Sophia in tow. Eventually it was just Michonne, Andrea, Rick, Carl and Judith left making small talk.

“I’m curious, Michonne; how did you end up knowing Daryl?” Rick asked.

“You mean aside from him being my tenant?” She asked playfully. Rick rolled his eyes and nodded. “I came to know him better when I attended a showcase of his.”

“Showcase?”

“Yeah, a motorcycle showcase. Daryl’s one of the lead engineers at Zero Engineering.” That explains a lot, Rick thought. “You should come with me to his next showcase. There hasn’t been one for a year or two, and I happen to have insider information that there’ll be one in the upcoming weeks.”

“Me?” Rick asked. Carl snorted beside him.

“Dad barely knows what a motorcycle even is,” Carl retorted, earning a laugh from Michonne.

“I know, I know. But I think Daryl would be happy to see you there. If you came too, you might even get a picture on one of the motorcycles, Carl,” Michonne teased.

“I’m sold,” Carl replied quickly. “Dad, we’re going.”

Dad rolled his eyes at the two of them. “ _Maybe,”_ he said. They knew that was the best they were going to get from him tonight. “C’mon, kid, let’s get you and Judith to bed. Your sister’s probably already conked out on the sofa.” Just then, Andrea came round holding a very tired-looking, thumb-sucking Judith’s hand. Rick thanked Michonne and Andrea for giving them to opportunity to make new friends in Atlanta, which they waved off, saying the pleasure was all theirs. They said their goodbyes, gave a few hugs and went on their way.

Life in Atlanta was looking a lot brighter now, Rick thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rickyl just picked up slightly. Did you see it? Good. Perhaps it won't be a 'such a slow burn that it literally bores you to tears'.
> 
> I don't really think Maggie and Glen will feature much in this...
> 
> Fore those of you who see parallels I'm making with the TV shows and/or comic, *high five*.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Any suggestions or comments or something I need to fix, feel free to tell me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... This is somewhat late. Compared to how rapidly I churned out the first three chapters at least. Is a week bad? Meh? I'm sorry - I was doing a lot of uni research and personal statement work, and I also decided it was a perfect time to start read 3 books??  
> Hopefully the Olympics kept you occupied...  
> But at least I actually did more than 1 scene this time, woo.  
> Enjoy~

**Daryl**

It was Friday afternoon of the next week. Daryl and Sophia pulled up to the prison in the Mercedes (the sidecar motorcycle was definitely _not_ an option when visiting Carol), having headed out after Sophia got home. Sophia habitually slipped her hand into Daryl’s as they made their way to the visiting room, settling his nerves. They sat in the uncomfortable chairs waiting for Carol to appear, as per usual.

“Hola, chicas,” Carol announced with a teasing smirk, and a wince, as she walked up to the waiting pair.

“Mom!” Sophia exclaimed, the wide grin on her face dropping when she looked at her mother’s face.

“Hey, Carol,” Daryl greeted with a characteristic nod of his head. “What happened?” he asked, looking at the purplish bruising on Carol’s cheekbone with worry etched into his face. His fists clenched.

“Oh, this? It’s nothing,” she brushed off. “Just a wee fight. Prison stuff. Don’t worry, I got her back twice as good.” She winked and smiled at Sophia who tried to smile back, but it looked more like a grimace. She wasn’t fooling Daryl either. “So, what’s new?” Carol asked, changing the subject.

“We have a new initiate in the dinner party group,” Sophia supplied.

“Oh? I wonder what deal she struck with _this_ poor soul,” Carol remarked wryly. “Is he nice?”

“Yeah, it’s the same guy who we gave a lift to the other week.”

“Rick?”

“The one and only.”

“That mean Carl was there too?” Carol asked pointedly, to which Sophia rolled her eyes.

“We went over this last week, Mom. We’re just _friends_ ,” she stressed, receiving a derisive snort from her mother. “But yes, Carl and Judith were both there too.”

“What about you, pookey? Any developments in the love department like my daughter here?” Carol asked. Sophia glared at her half-heartedly.

“What?” Daryl asked, surprised by the question. “I-uh-no,” he stammered, a slight blush rising to his cheeks which he prayed Carol didn’t notice. She did. She shared a conspiratorial glance with her daughter.

“Rick gave him roses,” Sophia supplied quickly before Daryl could stop her, earning herself an elbow to the ribs which she laughed off. Carol raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“ _Roses?”_ she queried. “And another Grimes? ‘Attractive’ must be in the genes.”

“Weren’t like that and you _know_ it,” Daryl huffed at Sophia, arms folded across his chest. “Twas a host gift.”

“Sure it was,” Carol agreed sarcastically.

In truth, as much as Daryl liked to deny it, he was starting to pay Rick far more attention than what could be considered normal. The man intrigued Daryl, from his luscious, curly brown locks right down to his hobnail boots. Not that _Carol_ needed know that.

Daryl had dated a bit in the past, but never got past a second date with anyone, so he didn’t quite know how to classify how he felt about Rick at the minute. He’d never really ‘liked’ anyone before, or at least, he didn’t think he had. Maybe this was what it felt like, he wondered. But he sure as hell knew that he found the man attractive. His body told him that much.

“Whatever,” Carol said in response to the lull in conversation. “Just let me meet this mysteriously handsome family before things get serious, okay?” she joked. “Tell me about school,” she asked Sophia, who jumped at the opportunity to discuss her school life.

“So I was in Math class today…” she started. Daryl smirked knowingly at Carol. He had heard this story several times already in the car on the way to the prison, the details getting more fantastical with each retelling. He had no doubt in his mind that Sophia would go on to tell the endless number of stories from the rest of the week. Carol had no idea what she had just gotten herself into.

*******

Daryl and Sophia arrived back at the apartment, trailing behind a car which looked oddly familiar to Daryl, but he couldn’t quite place it. Sure enough, when both parties parked and stepped out, Daryl’s yes bugged out as he recognised the driver; Aaron. He tensed as he realised that Aaron was here for to have dinner with Rick.

“Daryl? Hey, man! I haven’t seen you in ages!” Aaron exclaimed. Daryl nodded curtly in response and tried to usher Sophia inside quickly but she dug her heels in. Aaron made his way over with a man Daryl didn’t recognise.

“I don’t think we’ve met before,” Sophia said, extending her hand out to the approaching men. “I’m Sophia.”

“Aaron,” he introduced and shook her hand. “And this is my husband, Eric.” He motioned to the man beside him who waved at Sophia and a surprised and considerably less tense Daryl. He hadn’t realised Aaron had been seeing anyone.

“Y’all going to see Rick?” she asked.

“As a matter of fact, we are,” Eric said, shooting her a puzzled look.

“Rick mentioned briefly last week that he might invite y’all over,” Sophia explained. “Daryl and I can walk you up to his apartment – we live next to him.” Daryl shot her a glare but said nothing.

“Thanks,” Aaron said, flashing a brilliant smile at her.

“So, how do you and Daryl know each other?” Sophia asked as they climbed up the stairs.

“I was wondering the same thing,” Eric mused at his partner.

“Daryl and I actually dated a long time ago,” Aaron said with a small laugh, earning incredulous looks from Sophia and Eric. Daryl blushed lightly and walked on ahead of the rest of them, still saying nothing. “Well, we had _two_ dates,” he clarified.

“You and Daryl? Really? But you’re so _bubbly_ and he’s so _Daryl,”_ Sophia remarked teasingly with amusement evident in her voice. “I suppose he must just have a thing for policemen,” she said, raising an eyebrow from Aaron and Eric. Daryl walked even faster and blushed even harder. “Damn girl don’t know when ta shut up _”_ he mumbled under his breath so that no one could hear.

“You don’t mean _Ri_ –”

“We’re here,” Daryl called gruffly over his shoulder, interrupting Aaron mid-sentence as they arrived on their floor.

“It was nice seeing you again, Daryl,” Aaron said as he knocked on Rick’s door. Daryl grunted in response as he walked past to his own door. As he was walking past, Rick opened the door wearing a light grey Henley which hugged his chest and tight black jeans. _Jesus Christ._ Daryl did a double take, tripped over his own feet and faceplanted the ground. He groaned in embarrassment. His previous blush paled in comparison to his face at the minute.

“Oh my god, Daryl. Are you okay?” a southern drawl asked worriedly. His eyes finally refocused to see Rick kneeling down beside him with concern in his eyes. Rick made as if to grab him to help him up, thought better of it, and held out his hand warily instead. His face made it clear to Daryl that he was half-expecting the help to be declined once again.

“’M fine,” Daryl mumbled and, much to Rick’s surprise, he grabbed the offered hand which then pulled him up. Rick stood there as his eyes roamed over Daryl’s body. _He’s checking you_ out, his mind supplied but he quickly pushed the thought away, instead settling for the more rational explanation that Rick was assessing him for injury. Besides, as far as he knew, Rick was as straight as they come. Someone cleared their throat awkwardly behind Rick.

“Sorry, guys,” Rick said, remembering that he had guests. “Let’s head inside. Lemme take your coat.” He ushered Aaron and Eric inside and shot Daryl a final glance. “Take care, Daryl,” he said, receiving a typical nod in return, before closing his apartment door.

Daryl ignored Sophia’s smug smile.

*******

**Rick**

“Are you two gay?” Carl asked in the middle of their simple roast dinner, making Rick choke on some potato. He tried to wash it down with some wine.

“Carl,” he admonished lightly one he regained the ability to speak.

“What? I saw their rings.” He motioned towards the silver rings on their hands.

“It’s okay, Rick,” Aaron laughed. “He’s just asking if we’re a couple. Nothing wrong with that. But yes, we are, Carl.” Rick watched his son’s face closely, interested in his reaction, not knowing quite what to expect. They hadn’t really talked much about anything sex or puberty related. He was dreading the day he’d have to give ‘The Talk’ to the boy, but he knew it’d have to be someday soon. Maybe he’d give him a leaflet and leave him to it?

Carl chewed his cheek for a bit. “Cool,” he nodded amiably and continued to eat as if nothing happened, and the three adults let out a breath they didn’t realise they were holding. Rick swelled a bit with pride at how mature his son was.

“Millennials, am I right?” Eric remarked, earning small laughs from Aaron and Rick.

“What is ‘gay’?” Judith asked quietly.

“It’s when two boys or two girls love each other very much,” Eric tried to explain, not quite sure if the five year old would truly understand what he meant, but she nodded very seriously as if she did.

“So, you’re my dad’s new partner, huh?” Carl asked Aaron, steering the conversation in a new direction.

“Yep.”

“My dad likes to do stupid, reckless things. Just warning you.”

“Hey!” Rick cried with mock incredulity, reaching over to poke a laughing Carl in the ribs.

“So I’ve heard,” Aaron mused. Carl sobered up, thinking back to when his dad got shot.

“Just – Try not to let him be stupid too often, okay?” Carl asked more seriously.

“As his partner I can promise you, Carl, that it’s my job to make it damn near impossible for him to get hurt,” Aaron replied. Carl gave him a weak smile as thanks. It was times like these after Lori died that made Rick wonder who was taking care of whom. Perhaps Carl was a bit _too_ mature for his age. Forced to grow up too fast.

The rest of the evening went smoothly with lighter topics being discussed. All in all Rick really enjoyed himself. Carl seemed to as well, clicking with Aaron more than with Eric. Naturally this was down to Aaron being the more ‘fun’ of the two, as Carl would put it later. Carl excused himself, taking Judith with him to let the adults have more privacy. As soon as he left, Eric and Aaron magically produced a bottle of Port from under the table with a ‘surprise!’ and a waggle of eyebrows. Once the bottle was finished and their faces were rosy, Aaron and Eric broached the topic of Daryl.

“So, Rick,” Eric started. “You and Daryl…?” He let the question trail off.

“Uh… What do you mean?” Rick asked dumbly, hoping the blush wouldn’t be visible on his already-red cheeks.

“You know. Do you… like him?” Eric extrapolated.

“He’s a good friend,” Rick deflected.

“That’s not what I meant,” Eric said, giving Rick a flat look.

“Then what do you –”

Aaron huffed impatiently, tired of dancing around the subject. “Dammit, Rick, do you ‘like like’ Daryl,” he asked using air quotations around the childish phrase to highlight Rick’s childish evasion. Aaron shot him a pointed look, daring him to feign ignorance again.

“I… Uh… Well…” Rick stammered, unsure whether or not to confide his developing feelings for Daryl in them or not, but eventually he gave in with a sigh. Let’s face it, he needed help. Badly. “I honestly don’t know what I feel, guys,” Rick said, resting his head between his palms tiredly. He’d been trying to figure out his feelings all week to no avail. “I’ve just – I’ve always considered myself straight, you know? And now… I don’t know what to think. I can’t be gay, I had a wife for god’s sake, and I have 2 kids, I –” Rick’s voice started to crack. He knew it was a bad idea to drink most of that Port – he always ended up emotional when he was tipsy or drunk. Shane had always mocked him for it. “I’m a damn mess,” Rick laughed at himself humourlessly.

Aaron and Eric gave him a sympathetic look, and Eric shuffled his seat round beside Rick and placed his arm around him comfortingly. “Look, Rick. Maybe it’ll help you if you think of sexuality as a spectrum and something fluid, rather than something categorical and solid, and think that everyone is somewhat bisexual –” Eric started, but stopped when he saw Rick’s very puzzled look. He tried a slightly different approach. “Not all people know that they’re not straight from a young age, like Aaron and myself. Some people only come to the realisation that they’re gay or bisexual later on in life –”

“But I don’t find all men… attractive. Only Daryl, I think,” Rick interrupted.

“– And that’s something that occasionally happens too. A small fraction of people find that while they consider themselves to be, for simplicity’s sake, straight, there are select few people of the same sex that they’re attracted to. Daryl being one of those people for you. This won’t really fit in a neat box or label, but you don’t _have_ to _define_ yourself if you don’t want to, Rick. Just be _you._ ”

“You really think that’s what’s going on with me?” Rick asked.

“Human sexuality is a complicated thing, my friend,” Eric replied. Rick slowly nodded in agreement. He didn’t fully understand everything that Eric said, but he could roll with the last bit.

“How did you guys know?” Rick questioned. Aaron snorted derisively.

“As if you two could be any more obvious about your feelings for each other,” Aaron replied with a grin.

“Wait, you think Daryl likes me too?” Rick asked surprised, to which he received an ‘are you serious’ look.

“And I know for a fact that Daryl likes men,” Aaron said smugly, “so you don’t have to worry about that. We went on 2 dates a few years ago,” he responded to the unspoken ‘how’.

“I think we should give Rick some time alone to process things, dear,” Eric said to Aaron who nodded in agreement. “One piece of advice before we leave though, Rick. When you’re ready, _you_ need to be the one to make the first move on Daryl. Otherwise you won’t get this off the ground.”

Rick mulled this over before coming to the same conclusion. “Alright. Thanks for everything, guys,” he said and pulled them both in for a tight hug.

“No bother, Rick,” replied Aaron. “If you _ever_ need to talk about anything, well, I’m your _partner_ for Christ’s sake, so come talk to me, okay?”

“And we both had fun tonight, Rick. Hopefully we can hang out another time.”

“Yeah, sure. Definitely. See you soon.” Rick said as Aaron and Eric waved goodbye. He shut the door behind them and exhaled deeply. “How does one win over a man? Hell, how does one win over a _Daryl?_ ” he muttered to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Rickyl spark turned into a freakin' bonfire. I am happy.  
> I apologise for the third person perspective switching between unbiased omniscient and protag POV at times. It's difficult, okay :( . Ah, the inconsistency. Hopefully it doesn't bother you too much... or, even better, you don't even notice it... lmao.  
> Aaron and Eric now in the story? Yay or nay? This will probably be the biggest bit they feature in. Or who knows, maybe they'll be upgraded to main characters, after all, I always thought Aaron was cute in the comics.  
> I'll probs be doing weekly updates then. It'll depend on my workload (ofc) but I should be able to stick to it :)


End file.
